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BULL: MC ROMANCE (Forsaken Riders MC Romance Book 6)

Page 162

by Samantha Leal


  “I’m not even going to try to tell you,” she smiled and they both laughed.

  “You’re one of us, Gwen,” he reached up and stroked her hair again. “Of that I am sure. Your red hair…your pale skin and your green eyes… You are a genuine Urquhart woman.”

  She felt herself blushing.

  “We haven’t seen a woman like you since we lost our lands… All of our women were slain.”

  Gwen felt her skin tighten. “Murdered?”

  “Yes,” he nodded. “All of our women were taken from us… The last pure Urquhart woman was my mother. She was hidden and kept safe from harm for years until her death. We haven’t seen a true Urquhart for years. Until this morning, when I found you in the forest.”

  She was shocked. Maybe he was right. Maybe somehow she was a direct descendant and her being in close proximity to the sword after discovering it in the basement was the reason that she had been transported back to her clan… Time and space had aligned to make it all possible.

  She looked up at Andrew and felt something inside of her that she had thought she had lost. She felt longing and lust…and the possibility of love. He was so unusual--so wild and untamed compared to anyone she had ever met before, and he was a real gentleman below his brutish exterior. She thought back to her life in the present and of how she didn’t really have anything to return to… maybe she could stay? Could she have a life with him…? Could she be Gwen Urquhart?

  “We are going to battle,” he said seriously, interrupting her train of thought. “Father wants to ride tonight.”

  A feeling of dread rose inside of her. She had just found Andrew. She didn’t want to consider the possibility of losing him.

  “No,” she said before she was even aware the words were coming out of her mouth. “Don’t go.”

  She spun around to face him and stared deep into his eyes.

  “Andrew, I don’t know why I was sent here with the sword. But I have a strong feeling that it wasn’t the only reason. I look at you, and I see something I have always wanted… I look at you and I see a man I know should be mine. Maybe I brought it back because I was supposed to find you. We were supposed to find each other.”

  He moved closer to her and swept her up in his arms. Her heart pounded as he looked at her and she reached up and touched him tenderly on the cheek. His wiry beard was rough but warm, and she wanted to kiss him so badly but was unsure if she should.

  Andrew rose to his feet with her in his arms and placed her down in front of him before bending forward and moving his face closer to hers.

  “I think you are right, Gwen,” he whispered. “There is more to this than just a sword… I think we were meant to restart a pure Urquhart line.”

  As his lips touched hers and they embraced, she knew instantly that he was right.

  His kiss was gentle but breathtaking, and his tongue worked into her mouth and touched hers. She pulled him closer to her and ran her hands through his hair. He was so big, so strong, so powerful. She had to have him.

  Andrew pushed her back onto the bed and ripped at her robe. He tore it with his bare hands and she lay on the bed in front of him, naked and beautiful in the half light. She had never felt so vulnerable before, or so empowered. This man was everything she craved and never knew she wanted. As he stood before her and began to drop his weapons to the floor and take off his armor, Gwen’s sex pulsed with excitement. He was the sexiest thing she had ever seen.

  Andrew revealed his muscular body. His arms were thick with big, bulging veins running through them, and as Gwen’s eyes traveled down his rock-hard torso, she was greeted with the most perfect, huge cock standing stiff and proud between his legs.

  “Wow,” she gasped as she looked at him in his entirety. She had no idea how she was going to take him. He was such a big and powerful man… But she knew she was going to give it all she had. She wanted him to use her body, she wanted to pleasure him and for him to pleasure her. She wanted him to fill her up and start their own pure blood clan; she wanted and needed his seed because it would give her life a true meaning. She wanted him to be a part of her forever.

  As he climbed on top of her and parted her legs with his knees, he held onto his thick shaft and moved it closer to her opening. As he positioned the tip at her sex, he looked her in the eyes, and and she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer to her. As he penetrated her, pleasure rocketed through her whole body. He groaned as his whole length sunk into her, and he began to thrust in and out of her tight, wet, warm pussy.

  “Gwen!” he grunted as he wrapped her hair around his hand and pulled it tight.

  His powerful thighs drove his cock deep inside her and it wasn’t long before she knew she was about to tip over the edge into the most intense orgasm of her life. She gasped and screamed as she came and dug her heels into the base of his spine. Andrew’s breaths were becoming heavier and more frantic, and she knew he too was about to explode. At the same time she was in the throes of ecstasy, Andrew came hard and fast inside of her. He pumped his load into her and collapsed onto her chest.

  “My God,” he panted, before kissing her neck.

  “Andrew…” she whispered.

  “This was meant to be, Gwen,” he looked into her eyes. “Of that, I am sure.”

  8.

  Gwen wrapped herself up in the sheets and watched Andrew dress at the foot of her bed. As he strapped weapons to his side, she realized that whatever was about to happen, she was already going to give him a baby. She didn’t want to lose him, but wherever she ended up in time, she would have a piece of him with her.

  “I’ll be back for you, Gwen,” he said as he held onto her face and kissed her hard on the mouth. “I have something to live for now.”

  As he left the room, he didn’t look back at her for fear he may never leave, and as the door slammed behind him, Gwen felt a tear roll down her cheek.

  ***

  The cries from the battle raged through the night. Gwen didn’t dare move from her bed and she couldn’t bear to look from the castle windows for fear of being seen or of what she may see. As dawn came and the cries began to fade, Gwen found herself pacing the chamber… What if the Urquharts didn’t win? What would become of her then? She sat down on the edge of the bed and strained to listen out across the plains.

  She knew that they had rode north and were on the other side of the loch. As she listened, she could not hear any more sounds of fighting and she knew that it must be over. But there were no cheers and there were no celebrations. She feared the worst as she huddled into a ball and clutched her belly.

  “Please come back to me, Andrew,” she whispered.

  ***

  Around an hour later, she heard the sounds of hooves pounding across the fields. She ran to the window and looked out to try to see who was coming back to reclaim the castle.

  Would it be the Mathesons, or would Andrew and his father be leading the way?

  She could see a banner high in the sky, being pulled between two horses. The men were all galloping fast towards Castle Urquhart and it was with pure joy and relief that she spotted a gillyflower on the banner. She clapped her hands and squealed with delight. The Urquharts had won! She had helped them reclaim their land and their lives!

  The horse at the front charged in a straight line towards the castle drawbridge, and she could see even from up high that it was him. Her man had returned to her. She ran to the door of the chamber and pulled it open. The guards stood back and let her run down the hallway, following hot on her heels.

  She did not know her way, but she ran for the staircase. She was sure from there she would be able to find her way to him somehow.

  “Andrew!” she cried through the long corridors. “Andrew, where are you?”

  She could hear footsteps running towards her, and as she turned another corner, he was there, a wound on his leg and his arms scratched and bloodied. But he was alive and he was in one piece and that was all that mattered.

  They ra
n to each other and Andrew scooped her up in his arms. She kissed him as if it was their last day on earth and she never wanted it to end.

  “I love you, Andrew,” she whispered so only he could hear. “And I never want to lose you.”

  “I love you too, Gwen,” he said. “And you never will.”

  Behind them Andrew’s father, Robert, came into view. He watched them with a knowing smile.

  “We won,” he said. “And we couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “He’s right,” Andrew said. “You brought us the sword.”

  “This land is now yours,” Robert said. “The two of you will rule as the leaders of our clan. We need to build a strong family, and you are the ones to do it.”

  Reaching down, Andrew touched her stomach and looked her in the eyes.

  “Will you stay?” he asked.

  She looked up at him, unsure of whether she could truly do it. It would be such a scary, life-changing decision, but the thought of leaving Andrew behind was too painful to bear.

  “You can return if you want to,” Andrew said with a look of fear on his face. “We know how.”

  “You do?” Gwen asked hopefully.

  “Yes,” Andrew nodded. “It was another piece of information passed to us by the ancient oracles.”

  Gwen broke away from him and bit her lip.

  When she had found herself there in Scotland, all she wanted was to wake up and for it all to have been a bad dream. But that was before she had found her connection with Andrew and her sense of purpose. She thought back to her job and her apartment and her lack of any real anchor in her time and then looked at Andrew. He could give her everything she wanted and something about being with him just felt right. She didn’t want to lose that feeling, and she didn’t want to let him go.

  “No,” she said quietly, “I don’t want to go anywhere.”

  Andrew swept her up in his arms and kissed her again.

  “I’m going to make you the happiest woman alive,” he promised.

  And she knew he was telling the truth. Their fate was sealed… They were meant to be.

  THE END

  My Holiday Protector

  Samantha Leal

  Copyright ©2015 by Samantha Leal. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic of mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Table of Contents

  1.

  2.

  3.

  4.

  5.

  6.

  7.

  8.

  9.

  1.

  Damon was still in the house and even though she wished that she could ignore it, Chloe could hear him pacing downstairs on the marble floors in the hallway. She didn’t want to face him, but knew that she couldn’t hide away forever… She knew that it was over, and she had never wanted anything more in her entire life… but now the time had come, she was afraid of what he may do… Damon had never been the calmest of guys… and there had been more than one occasion when his anger had got the better of him.

  Chloe pulled her silk robe tightly around her shoulders and fastened it at the waist. It was the middle of the night, and although she had asked him to go over an hour ago, Damon was still downstairs, on the main floor of her family home, shouting into his cellphone and cursing the day that Chloe was born.

  “Damon?” she whispered as she approached the top of the stairs.

  “What?” he looked up at her and seemed to spit venom. His dress shirt was still firmly buttoned and his bowtie done up perfectly, despite the fact he had been rolling around drunk only a few hours before.

  They’d been at a holiday fundraiser for one of Chloe’s dad’s firms and the night had gone from bad to worse. Damon had turned up in a terrible mood, which had only intensified with each shot of whiskey he knocked back and each martini he spilled whilst trying to look sophisticated. Chloe had been born into this world of privilege and corporate affairs, but after her time spent with Damon… she knew she was done.

  She didn’t care about upsetting her father, he would get over it in time, but she would never forgive herself if she resigned herself to a life with a man like him. She needed someone much more rugged around the edges and who loved an adventure. Not a stuffy business man who only seemed interested in discussing his latest mergers and acquisitions before getting blind drunk and abusive.

  “You’re going to regret this Chlo,” Damon hissed at her as he paced the hallway before he looked out of the window to check for his cab. “You stuck up little bitch,” he snorted. “You’ll get what’s coming to you.”

  Chloe had to use all of her strength not to roll her eyes. Seeing him like this now, she found it hard to believe that there had ever been love between them. He was so angry, so ugly… so cruel. His insides must have been rotten and black.

  “Fuck this,” he snarled as he reached for the door handle and pulled it open, letting in the icy cold air and a blast of frost.

  Chloe watched him from the gallery landing at the top of the stairs as he hurled himself out into the night and onto the sprawling driveway, where he opened the door to his sports car, jumped behind the wheel and let the engine roar. He was so drunk, there was no way he should have been driving, but there was also no way she was going to stop him. The last time she had tried, she had wound up with bruises all down her arms from where he had gripped her as he screamed in her face.

  Chloe was smart and knew when to pick her battles… and this wasn’t one of them

  “Let him go,” she whispered to herself as the door blew closed with a bang and she saw the flash of lights swing around the fountain and start down the drive to the road.

  She breathed a sigh of relief and wiped her eyes.

  It wasn’t until she went back in her bedroom and sat down on her bed that she realized she was shaking. She looked at her hands and at the way they trembled and she felt the tears welling up behind her eyes. She hated to admit it to herself, but she had always been scared of Damon. He was always so unpredictable, it was as if at any moment he could have swung around and punched her square in the jaw. She shivered and climbed underneath the covers. It wouldn’t be long before it was the New Year and she had big plans for herself. She was going to grab life with both hands and really live, instead of just existing.

  And now that Damon was gone, she was finally free to start again.

  2.

  The following morning Chloe awoke to the sound of banging and crashing throughout the house. She rolled over and blinked her bleary eyes awake and strained her ears to pick up the sounds of whatever was happening. Somewhere downstairs she could hear her mother’s voice drifting through the hallways, calling to one of the handymen to hang the garland higher.

  Decoration day, she thought with fondness.

  It had been a family tradition of theirs for as long as she could remember to spend a full Saturday adorning their family home with a whole host of Christmas décor, but usually they would wait for Chloe to surface. Maybe they had got wind of her and Damon’s argument and decided to leave her to it for the morning, or maybe they just realized that now she was twenty-two, she was probably too old to be still fussing on with activities that were created for her when she was a child.

  She felt a pang of nostalgia as she remembered their family Christmas’s when she was younger and of how her and her parents and brother had all dressed up in festive jumpers, turned on the carols and danced all day together whilst adorning the tree and sipping mulled wine. Chloe always found herself with the job of untangling the fairy lights, and although she hated it, it was another tradition that seemed to have stuck. It had always been one of her favorite days of the year, but even though she was back there for the weekend and away from her apartment in the city, she was still feeling decidedly un-Christmassy.

  She yawned
and leaned up on her elbows. Even though she was feeling more like The Grinch than Mrs. Christmas she dragged herself out of bed and after pulling on her robe, made her way downstairs.

  “Chloe!” her mother beamed as she shuffled into the kitchen and grabbed the pot of coffee that was resting on the center island.

  The whole room looked as if a Santa’s grotto had exploded all over it and she tiptoed amongst lush green wreaths, garlands and baubles to find a seat at the table.

  “Morning,” she croaked as she took a sip of coffee and rested her chin on her hand.

  “Feeling the after effects of last night?” her mother smirked.

  Chloe shrugged and raised her eyebrows. She wasn’t sure how much she had heard, or indeed even if her and her father had been home when the argument took place. Their family home was so big, it was easy for people to disappear into their rooms and sleep peacefully at night without being disturbed by the goings on of the others. She and Damon had left them at the gala dinner and had no idea of when they had returned.

  “Something like that,” she said sullenly.

  Her mother looked at her and placed the garland she was holding down on the counter top.

  “I knew something was up last night,” she said. “What’s happened?”

  Chloe sighed and felt the tears stinging her eyes again. She wanted to tell her mother everything, but at the same time, she couldn’t bear to go through it all again.

  “Damon and I…” she began. “We’ve broken up.”

  Her mother reached out and stroked her shoulder. Chloe knew there was nothing she could say, but just the fact that she was there for her was enough.

  “I’m sorry Darling,” her mom soothed. “I thought maybe he would have been the one to go the distance.”

 

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